Wind Beneath Her Wings
by oneninetyoneninetyfive
Summary: From a chase from rooftop to near abandoned building, Faith finds herself acquainted with a gas-masked mute. What is his reasons for standing up against the system? Will he be the wind beneath her wings or the squall that leads to the illustrious runner's plummet? First fic I'm giving a shot at. Reviews are appreciated :)


Faith felt her beating core heave inside her ribcage, furiously circulating her blood. Her lungs felt like they were searing her throat as she took gasping mouthfuls of air. She was fast, and light, whereas the heavily padded goons pursuing her were encumbered with their arms and armor. She kicked down the door leading to the roof, finding herself staring at the bland concrete plains of the rooftops she called her playground. The sky was as blue as ever, its azure expanse mirrored in the myriad of skyscrapers and office buildings clawing at its unreachable embrace. She could hear the rumble of boots, echoing from the small, squat square she emerged from. The blues are coming. Thinking quickly the runner climbed on top of the square and poised herself to strike at the coming goons. It fifteen seconds for three of them to burst out onto the roof, fifteen spine-chilling seconds where Faith was torn between taking her chances at running or getting the drop on 'New Eden City's finest.'

"No sign of perpetrator." One of them said aloud, definitely into a radio set. All three were clad in black bulletproof vests and ballistic helmets. In their hands were the newest models of their standard issue assault rifle. It could spit out eight hundred and fifty rounds per minute, more than enough time to turn her into a sick parody of a Swiss cheese wheel. They were also, quite conveniently, pointed away from her. She saw her chance, the three PK goons stood in a sort of 'v' formation, two at the front one at the back, with just enough space for the man in the back to face plant without obstruction. She leapt as one of the armored men began saying something to his cohorts. "Fan out, standard search pat-" She didn't let him finish. Her foot connected to the gap between the back of his helmet and the back armor. There was a wet 'crack' sound as the man landed neck first into the concrete, his neck all but broken. The other two goons had just enough time to turn and mutter curses before Faith swept a powerful leg at them, taking the two below the knees. They fell hard, but forewarned managed to more or less brace themselves. They were scrambling to right themselves to fire when Faith's hand slid across the dead PK's handgun. She pulled it as she rolled aside, managing to avoid a short burst from one of the goons. She fired thrice; crimson sprayed and speckled the concrete. She didn't need to make sure they wouldn't get up.

She could hear more boots ringing the staircase beyond the red door. There were still at least ten of them after her, all armored, all packed to the nines with guns. She grabbed a bloodstained assault rifle and emptied its curved magazine into the darkness of the stair case. She was rewarded by the sound of muffled curses and people slipping and falling over each other. Faith tossed the weapon aside, did an about face and broke into a sprint. Her fifteen seconds atop the square concrete island let her spot possible escape routes; She could keep going straight and take flight across a zip line but perished the thought as gunshots began ringing out. She turned left, dashing past a conveniently located electrical junction box that sputtered and sparked as it took bullets earmarked for the nimble runner. She had spotted the crane, at first thinking of climbing it. Then she noticed the long 'I' beam hanging from its hook, it gave her a straight shot at the next building, an apartment by the look of things.

A PK thug suddenly appeared a stone's throw in front of her. Faith slid, letting momentum augment her speed. The man fired, missing her by a hair's breadth, peppering the concrete behind her with pock marks. Not a second later her foot connected with the man's groin. Thankfully he seemed to have forgotten the memo about crotch protection. He doubled over in pain. The runner paid him no further mind as she smoothly rolled and in one fluid motion continued her flight without losing impetus. Her feet connected with the metal beam by the time she heard more guns bark behind her. Her thighs pumped as fast as they could as she prepared to jump. Then the beam began to fall. They weren't shooting at her, they were shooting at the supporting cables. The goons were getting smarter. For a heartbeat she found herself racing with gravity to reach the end of the beam and jump. She leapt, already determining she wouldn't be able to reach the lip of the apartment's roof. She braced herself for the inevitable impact of skin on glass. She crossed her arms moments before she burst through a window.

Not the best landing she'd found herself in, but considering the bullets whizzing in the air she doubted anyone else could do better. Faith found herself in an empty apartment, the TV was broadcasting the afternoon news to no one in particular. Then she noticed a pair of legs hovering in the bedroom, visible from the half opened door. Whoever he was, from the lack of subjects in the photographs around the living room, it seemed no one would miss him.

Faith stood, ignoring the flaring pains throughout her body and left the apartment. The hallways were a faded white and dotted with dark colored doors. She made for the nearest stairway, hoping to gain access to the building's roof. She kicked the emergency exit's door down and looked up. "Shit." A curse slipped out between her lips. Dark smudges were descending, spiraling on the staircase above her. "Choppers." She growled. She leapt down half a flight and began running, to her astonishment she was running _downwards_. Her earpiece sparked into life, relaying a string of orders, "Instructions are to take her alive, Mister-" the officer's voice abruptly went dead to be replaced by another

"Kid, where are you going?" She took small comfort in the familiar voice rasping in her ear. "Kind of busy right now Merc." The runner replied curtly as she reached the second floor landing. "They're out to bag you Faith,"

"Yeah, heard it.

" Her path to the apartment's hallways was blocked by a CPF officer who had a man up against the door. Without hesitation she leapt, taking the officer with a flying kick that shattered something. The blue uniformed man howled in pain, clutching at his leg and dropping his pistol. She stood and found the man the CPF officer was going to arrest had turned to face her. Faith waived off the instinct to throw a punch at his face, or rather lack of it. The gas mask he wore nearly made her thought he was another PK thug. He wore a dark grey hoodie and matching cargo pants that were at least a size too big for him. He began to say something when the footfalls on the ladder got louder. Faith shoved the man aside and elbowed the door down. Leaving the stairway oddity and the wounded CPF officer behind, she took a right turn, after properly being forewarned by Merc. "Blues chopper dropped off a squad of those SWAT guys on the roof. They mean business Fatih." The ex-runner warned her.

"Right,"

"And they've set up a roadblock on the street up front, they're expecting you."

"Where to now then?" she asked, taking a left. "Can you… up… roof?" Static interjected in between Merc's words. "No, is there any other way out!?"

"Try… way sta… -ant go… -sh hour." The line fizzled before it terminated abruptly. "Merc? Merc!? Damn it!"

Faith could hear a helicopter's whirring, muffled by the building. The footfalls were ringing closer, then she spotted the open window. Without thinking vaulted over the edge and hung by her fingertips. She spotted the drainpipe next to her, hopped on it and slid down. A sudden draft made her go through another window, thankfully it was open. This time she landed on her back, with the wind knocked out of her. Her whole body pulsed with aches and pains as she forced herself to get up.

She found herself in another empty apartment, though this time it was just unclaimed yet. The doors were still closed, the air conditioning was off, and aside from a sofa and a Spartan kitchen, the whole apartment was still bare. She went over to the front door, half expecting it to be locked. She turned the knob and the door opened outwards without a fight. This floor was eerily quiet, something was wrong. Then as she moved down a hallway towards the elevator she hadn't noticed existed, its metal doors opened, revealing a ruffled looking PK goon inside. He noticed her just a split second after she noticed him. He raised a pistol and seemed to pull the trigger. There was no flash, no bark, as Faith rolled forward and planted a fist firmly under the goon's unprotected chin. He flew backwards and slammed against the elevator wall, ending up slumped against it.

Faith stood up, her heart still beating like a V8 powered metronome when she heard a soft chime. She turned, legs braced in a fighting stance and arms ready to send punches. Then she realized it was the elevator doors sliding shut. The only thing facing her was her own somewhat distorted reflection. She let out a sigh and wiped her brow. The adrenaline was starting to fade, but… She felt relaxed. That was when she looked down and found a bright red dart sticking out of her thigh. She pulled it out immediately and threw it disgustedly. Then the room began to spin. At the rate her heart was pumping the sedative was well on its way, piggybacking on her bloodstream. The elevator spun faster and faster, Faith stuck a hand to her temples, vainly trying to stop the spinning. Then she felt her legs give way under her, the last things she noticed were the doors sliding open and a pair of combat boots before she drifted off.

A blinding light was the first thing the runner saw when her eyes fluttered open. She shot a hand out to stifle it, slightly surprised to find they weren't bound. Slowly, carefully, Faith sat up, realizing she had been laid on a cot. Something metallic slid down her chest and landed on the hand that had been rested on her midriff. It was a gun, fully loaded by the weight of it. A piece of paper had been hastily wrapped around its barrel. Faith unfurled it, finding a note written in sketchy handwriting:

"_Looks like you need this more than I do. I put two spare clips in your pockets."_

By way of signing the message, her mysterious benefactor had drawn a cartoonish gas mask below the message. "Him?" muttered Faith unconsciously. She looked around her surroundings, he had stashed her in a not so cramped maintenance room, the blinding light earlier had been the only powered on source of luminescence in the room. She sat up, misjudging the distance between the cot and her feet and inadvertently kicked at the cement. She ran a hand through her short black hair, still finding her head mildly throbbing. There was another crumpled note on the floor. This one read:

_"I put your earpiece in one of your pockets. You should see someone who knows medicine. First aid isn't a final solution. Also I left some energy bars in your pockets. You probably need those too. It's a good thing you have a lot of pockets." _

Again, there the gas mask was, scribbled under the message. Faith put away the note and ran her hands over her pants; her earpiece, a spare pistol clip and a couple of energy bars were in her left pant leg pockets, the other leg pockets held the rest of the energy bars and the other pistol clip. She stuck the pistol in her pants and stood up. After a few minutes of stretching and shadow boxing she turned towards the door. On it she found another note, along with a wristwatch, taped to the door. The final note said:

_"They should be done looking for you. In case you're wondering, you're in an abandoned part of the subways. There's an abandoned station that leads to the surface if you take a left, can't possibly miss it. Also take the watch, after all you did save my life. Stay safe out there runner." _

The watch indicated it was half past six, she couldn't have been out cold for a too, so it should be in the evening. She exited and turned left, finding the aforementioned station immediately. It was dark there, save for an illuminated square on the floor, where the light from the night sky shone through. Faith calmed her breathing and continued at a walk, her head weighted by the dregs of the sedative and more questions than answers. Who was the gas masked man? How did he get her here? How did he shake the blues? Is he even a man under those blank, circular lenses? As she climbed the stairway into the streets she popped her earpiece in and activated it. "Merc, are you there?"


End file.
